


One of a kind

by pene



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Advent, Drabble, M/M, tattoo parlor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pene/pseuds/pene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tattoos have an intimacy all their own, Kurt's known that for years, but still this new client is getting under Kurt's skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of a kind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Klaine Advent Day Fourteen: Needle

“This your first tattoo, Blaine?”

Kurt doesn’t ordinarily focus on the answer, letting the client’s words float over him and build his sense of person. Ink is important. There’s honor in modifying someone’s skin. But this job feels like even more than that. It’s captured his imagination.

“Yes,” says his client. Blaine. “But the idea’s been a part of me forever.” There’s a nervous flutter in his voice.

“The Nightbird,” Kurt says and meets Blaine’s bright eyes. The intimacy of inking someone for the first time thrills under his skin. It surprises him. He’d almost forgotten the heady privilege in being a part of this.

The parlor’s just off St Mark’s. Kurt and Unique keep it spotless, everything sterile save the artwork. The lighting’s carefully positioned so they can do their best work every time.

“The Nightbird,” Blaine echoes.

“Are you ready to see what I’ve sketched?”

They lean together over the scarred worktable Kurt brought with him when they started this place. Their shoulders brush. Kurt feels it in his spine. He steadies himself and reveals the artwork with a little flourish.

Blaine exhales. “It’s beautiful,” he says. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Kurt turns his head and meets his gaze. “You’re very welcome,” he says, soft. It’s not just the request that has his attention. There’s something startling and familiar about Blaine. Kurt shifts back. He gestures to the chair and they move across together. 

“Why are you getting a tattoo?” Kurt asks and for the first time in a while he’s genuinely interested in the answer.

Blaine stutters a little. “I just – I feel like-” He squares his shoulders and takes a breath. “I’m a performer. I love it. Of course. I’m not ungrateful for the success I’ve had but. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been playing this part and I’ve forgotten who I am. I want to feel real again.”

Kurt says, “It’s a good tattoo. But I’m not certain any tattoo can do all that.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” Kurt asks gently.

“I want to have a reminder of every part of me. I want to remember the parts that hate to be hurt. The parts that dream of being a hero. The parts that I’m ashamed to show. I’m changing a few things. I just, I just broke up with someone.”

Kurt smiles but keeps it to himself. So many first tattoos come from an end of one kind or another. Kurt’s came out of death. It’s a way to remind yourself that you can still bleed, that you’re still here.

Blaine goes on. “My ex. He didn’t really see me. And I don’t want to give up on any part of myself. I want to see it all again. This tattoo is a step toward that. It will hurt, but it’s part of me. And it will stay with me.”

“I understand that,” Kurt says after a pause. There are things he’s given up on too. He feels the pins and needles prickle of remembering them. 

Kurt keeps his eyes down as he selects a gauge for the line work.

“Sorry,” murmurs Blaine. “I don’t know why I said all that.”

“You’re nervous,” says Kurt. “And I’m here.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not just that. There’s-” Blaine pauses.

“Take off your shirt,” Kurt says kindly. “Rest your arms on the back of the chair.” Blaine does. Kurt tries not to watch the shift of muscles under Blaine’s skin. He disinfects the back of Blaine’s shoulder, not letting his fingers brush Blaine’s skin unless they have to. He doesn’t want to add to the heightened closeness.

As he starts the tattoo, Blaine twitches fractionally then stills. His body feels alive and breathless under Kurt’s hands. They talk as Kurt focuses on the intricate work, then the shading. Blaine tells him about his career, his home, his dreams, the odd little things he loves. Kurt talks too, about music and performance, about fashion beyond the admittedly eye-catching black leather pants and sleeveless vests he wears. He talks about things he’d forgotten he wanted.

And under his hands the tattoo reveals itself on Blaine’s skin, just as Kurt imagined.

Afterwards Kurt holds up a mirror to show Blaine his work. He runs through the aftercare spiel. They stand at the front desk and Blaine pays.

Then Blaine steps closer. “Kurt,” he says. He’s sincere and wide-eyed. Kurt knows that look.

“Not now,” Kurt says quietly.

“I wanted to ask-“

“I know. Please, don’t ask now. There’s a false intimacy to this situation. I caused you pain and looked after you. I-It’s not real.”

Blaine’s face falls, he steps away. Kurt’s taken aback by how that hurts.

“You don’t want to see me again?” asks Blaine softly.

“I do,” says Kurt. “God. Just. Cards on the table. I know it seems strange in my line of work,” he waves his hands, vaguely indicating the parlor, “but everyone will tell you, I’m kind of a romantic. I don’t do casual. You’re newly single and the thing is I don’t want to find this is just the potent connection of tattoo artist and client. I want you to be sure.”

Blaine says, “I’m sure, Kurt.”

Kurt smiles at him sadly.

There’s a moment, then Blaine’s face lights. “It’s not just me, though,” he says. “It’s you. You should be used to this ‘potent connection’. But you feel this too. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Kurt takes a steadying breath. This is a terrible idea. But Blaine is so beautiful and so close and there’s no denying that what he says is true. Oh god is it true. Kurt feels this connection between them in every part of him. He reaches a hand to the side of Blaine’s face. They hold still, suspended for a moment. Then the air gusts out of Kurt’s lungs. Blaine lifts his hands to Kurt’s waist. Kurt pulls Blaine in. There’s nothing false in the intimacy as their lips meet.


End file.
